


Sacrificial

by E_Frayne



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood Magic, Boys In Love, Character Death, Comfort/Angst, Dragons, Fairy Tale Elements, Falling In Love, Fantasy, First Love, Hate to Love, Heartbreak, Kings & Queens, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Princes & Princesses, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Romance, Royalty, Sacrifice, Sex, Slavery, Slow Burn, Torture, Tragedy, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Frayne/pseuds/E_Frayne
Summary: A prince forced into captivity by his sadistic father, Hyakinthos has forever wished to escape the walls of his prison. His one chance to escape, however, is thwarted when he is captured by a group of half-dragon bandits eager for the price on his head...An outcast who fits in with neither humans nor dragons, Drakon straddles each world with a flippancy few can muster. It takes a mere roll of the dice to catapult himself into a decision that will change his present and his future...
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 15
Kudos: 17





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long while (some 10 years!) since I posted anything online so I am a little nervous! I've been fleshing out the idea for this story and series (hopefully!) for years so I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think below. I've intentionally left some tags out as I feel it will spoil the story.
> 
> While some parts of this story/ world is based on Ancient Greek history/ lore/ mythology, I have also weaved in other elements from various myths/ legends which are not consistent with this (this will become more apparent further down the line). 
> 
> Also, thusíā, or "θῠσῐ́ᾱ", means sacrifice in Ancient Greek... to my knowledge, though I fear that the form I have used may be slightly wrong! 

**I.**

A child's hysterical cries echoed down the corridor.

Frantic footsteps followed as a young girl flew down the marble hallway towards the padlocked door at the far end. She pulled out a handful of keys, rattling in her hands as she tried to find the right one.

Flipping through each key and inelegantly shoving it in and twisting, she made small sounds of dismay as each failed to turn the lock.

Where was it?

A small boy pulled at her frayed linen skirt insistently, but she batted his hand away. She didn’t have time to placate the young prince.

“Anna,” he whined. “What’s going on?”

“Leave,” she told him firmly as the heart wrenching sobs persisted. “You should not even be here, Chares. Your father will wring my neck if he finds out you’re with me.”

At that, he seemed to quieten as his chubby face scrunched up into a frown. Such a sweet boy, Anna thought, and such a shame his sadistic father would soon sink his claws into him and destroy his innocence. Who knew what kind of brilliant man he could have become had he not been born into the cursed Ευνικη royal family.

He was but six summers old yet his aqua blue eyes were brimming with quick-wittedness and sharp intellect, wiser beyond his years as he absorbed every morsel of detail. His sapphire robes swamped his tiny figure, tufts of golden blond hair sticking out of place after causing mayhem by wandering around the servant passages.

He was going to be the death of her.

At just 12 years of age, Anna had been placed in charge of the little terror as she was the only person he seemed to vaguely listen to, and that really wasn’t saying much.

Yet despite his awful behaviour and obnoxiousness, Anna couldn’t help but feel fond of the prince. He was everything she had grown up being taught to hate all neatly wrapped up in one young boy; he wasn’t the true crowned prince, after all. The true future leader was behind the door in front of her.

For a poor Deiceian now living within the formidable limestone walls decorated with sapphire hyacinths and serpents weaved in between, an ally - even in the form of a spoilt prince - was a necessity. The stone snakes certainly weren’t the only slithering reptiles in the palace.

She hissed when she finally managed to prise the door open with the correct key and she pushed Chares behind her as she let out a gasp, a pathetic attempt to protect him from the sight in front of her. Of course, he ignored her and peaked out from behind her skirt.

A figure with curly chestnut hair huddled over a lifeless body lying on the marble ground, shaking as his fingers pressed into her bunched up clothing. His tear-stained face jerked up at the sound of the door opening, sage green eyes haunting as he looked torn between reaching out to Anna and staying by his mother’s side.

“Please help her,” he pleaded quietly. “I’ll do anything you say, just help her. Please.”

Anna rushed to his side, heart sinking as her gaze turned to the former queen’s pale face, grey eyes pearly and vacant as she stared up at the divine fresco above. The young girl shuddered as she pressed a hand to the cold face.

She was dead. The true queen was dead and now her son would have to bear her miserable fate.

He was only seven summers old.

Anger coursed through her as she contemplated the young boy’s future; an eternal servant to the kingdom and forced to endure endless scorn and pity in the darkness. How could she leave her own son to live the way that she couldn’t?

“I’m sorry, Hyakinthos. She’s dead.”

His face crumbled but he tried so desperately to hold back the tears that ran down his face. He clutched an ugly gold pendant in his small hands, staring down at it intensely as hoards of other servants rushed into the room.

He looked so lost, dirtied white robes pooled at his knees as faceless people surrounded him.

He was completely and utterly alone.

* * *

_14 years later_

Sunset over the sandstone landscape, brushed with a faint dusting of olive trees and imposing shards of sharp rock, never failed to take his breath away.

The deep peach bleeding into the pure blue sky looked startling against its arid surroundings and, if Hyakinthos squinted hard enough, he could make out the evergreen forest in the far distance he had read so much about. Sweat crawled down his neck as his arms hung over the edge of the 100ft wall, exhaustion leaving his body limp as he revelled in the light cool breeze and plummeting temperature.

He glanced over to the sword he had left lying on the floor behind him and a small part of himself was proud that he seemed to finally be getting better after pouring through all the manuals he had stashed away. Of course, there was only so far he could go by practising alone over the last four years but he would do whatever he could. He would no longer be a pathetic child twisted and turned whichever way the King wished it and he _would_ defy expectations.

A pleasant chill began to set into his skin, thrumming as he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

“Your Highness!”

Hyakinthos’ eyes snapped open but he sighed, knowing only one person who would dare call him by his old title.

Turning around he stared at Alec, who was looking him up and down in a state of horror. As usual, his sandy hair was perfectly groomed, not a single strand out of place as it reached down to his narrow shoulders. Like most people in Dycei, and unlike Hyakinthos, he was born with a shade of blond. High nobility were often recognised by how pure the shade was, with his two younger brothers’ buttery sunshine hue garnering much attention. Though, in saying that, his own wavy chestnut locks also attracted attention, though not for the same positive reason.

“What are you _doing_?” Alec stormed over, bending over to grab the sword off the floor before making his way over to him. “You were supposed to have been ready an hour ago! If they catch you up here - and with a _sword_ \- there will be dire consequences. Surely you should know this by now?”

Hyakinthos re-tied the cloth slung around his waist and folded his arms across his bare chest, rolling his eyes. Instead of addressing Alec’s concerns, he turned back to the landscape and the city sitting at the feet of the palace.

“You know not to call me by that name and yet you still persist. What if someone heard you? You would be hung for treason.”

“Oh, so you do care about saving my neck then?” Alec retorted as walked up to the prince. “And I knew that no one was here, it is fine.”

“You need to be more careful.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Because I am indispensable,” Hyakinthos replied simply, craning his neck to meet Alec’s gaze. “You on the other hand…”

Alec gave him a look.

“Who else would be able to handle you?”

Grabbing him by the arm, he pulled him towards the door he’d arrived through, sandals slapping against the limestone floor before pushing him through another rusted wooden door to the servants’ passages. Thankfully, it was relatively empty as most had been called to other parts of the palace to help with tonight’s event.

Alec had been assigned as his personal servant just five years ago after Hyakinthos had been caught trying to sneak around outside of his restricted perimeters. But rather than prevent him from doing so, Alec had taught him the best routes to avoid being caught and even told him about the secret spot in the tower.

After weaving through the tunnels, they managed to get to the required destination - his room.

Nestled in the furthest corner of the palace, conveniently beside the temple, it was a far cry from the royal quarters, whose pompous grandeur successfully overwhelmed important visitors inspecting the palace for chinks in its armour. In stark contrast, Hyakinthos’ room was distinctly plain and, while not small, limited in decor with bare white limestone walls and an arch leading to the marble bathroom. His four-poster bed sat directly in the centre of the room and was missing the luxurious drapes that once hung from it years ago after Hyakinthos tore them off.

In one corner of the room, however, Hyakinthos had collected the few things in the world that meant something to him: his chestnut bookshelf crammed full of books and a hideous gold mirror carved with hyacinths leaning against it. The latter had garnered a thin layer of dust, one line running through it after he had swiped a finger across its surface.

Flickering candles mounted on the walls cast a yellow glow across the room, ensuring that the lack of windows made it appear more like a tomb than a bedroom. Which, Hyakinthos thought, was not far from the truth considering the circumstances.

Sandalwood burned as steam swirled from within the marble bathroom that Alec pushed him towards, the woody and comforting scent instantly easing the tension that had subconsciously built in Hyakinthos. The two servant girls, clad in white cotton that draped over their bodies, hair loosely pulled back into braids with ribbons, stood to the side as they waited patiently for him. One appeared nervous as she fidgeted with her skirt and pink stained her cheeks, staring down at the bottle of olive oil in her hands. She must have been the new girl Alec had been muttering about last week, Hyakinthos figured.

He daren’t admit it out loud lest the pleasure was taken away from him, but Hyakinthos enjoyed being bathed and readied for the temple; plunging into hot, perfumed water as fingers slick with oil pressed into his skin. Perhaps it was his craving for human contact, but he would not allow himself to believe he was pathetic for feeling so.

Untying the cloth around his waist, he unselfconsciously slipped into the water, ignoring the younger girl flapping about as she tried desperately to avert her eyes. He tried not to make a face as he noticed that the water was now lukewarm, though Alec was as observant as ever and just threw him an unimpressed look.

The older girl, who clearly wasn’t as prudish as the younger, reached for the bucket to the side and tipped the water over his head.

“Make it brief Cassia,” Alec informed her as she grabbed Hyakinthos’ arm and rubbed the clay into his skin. “He is needed at the temple shortly.”

She stopped and her lips thinned. “How, exactly, would you expect me to go about doing such a thing?”

“Well,” Alec stumbled as the other girl’s eyes widened in shock. “Just do it quicker.”

“‘Just do it quicker’ - well, I never Alec,” Cassia said pointedly. “I had no idea that you were so accustomed with washing Hyakinthos. I should leave it to you next time then, surely, if you are so adept at it?”

He flushed bright red as Hyakinthos did his best to not react.

“Of course not. But we are on a tight schedule and he is needed at the palace-”

“And I am sure that His Majesty will be understanding that if he wishes to have the thusíā bathed, taken to the temple and readied for tonight’s event that it may take longer than usual.”

“You know he will not, Cassia.”

She stared back at him defiantly and he sighed. 

“As quickly as possible,” Alec rectified before turning to Hyakinthos, brow furrowed. “I shall be waiting in the temple.”

“Honestly,” she muttered to herself as she gestured impatiently to the younger girl. “Sofia, are you here to help me or gawk?”

Sofia scrabbled on the floor as she grabbed the rest of the clay and oil to hand over to Cassia.

After some time, Hyakinthos’s skin was scrubbed raw, prompting fresher scars on his arms to brighten with blood. It didn’t hurt, though he was handed a piece of fabric to wind around his wrist to mop up and dry the crimson smears. He didn’t quite understand the point, considering there would be more soon joining them anyway. Yet the temple and its priests indulged in the idea that he was cleansed before every ritual, purified before his essence was gifted to the Snake God and his chosen few.

Dressed plainly in robes, wet hair dripping droplets of water down his forehead, he was led to the large archway of the temple.

The pungent smell of burning jasmine hit Hyakinthos as soon as he stepped inside, as did his shortening of breath. No matter how many years passed, he was unable to properly ready himself for the ceremony.

He kept his face expressionless but, judging from High Priest Alessandro’s smile, he wasn’t as successful as he believed himself to be.

The priest stood at the top of the limestone steps, two fellow priests standing at his side, as they all wore ruby tunics, pinned at the shoulder with a hyacinth dipped in gold. Their lips curved with faux serenity as Hyakinthos approached them, hands flat against his sides.

In front of them sat a simple clay bowl filled with holy water and a sharp knife, hilt adorned with amethysts and rubies. He might have thought it beautiful in another time, another world.

He vaguely noticed Alec watching as well as another pair of eyes glancing in from the shadows among the black glass serpent statues.

“Please kneel, thusíā,” High Priest Alessandro demanded with an authoritative tone, sharp eyes glinting with pleasure as he watched Hyakinthos lower onto the floor.

The man hooked his fingers under Hyakinthos’ chin and forced him to look up at him as the other two priests reached down to pull back the fabric covering his arms, turning them over so his wrists faces the twisted mass of serpents etched into the arched ceiling above.

Hyakinthos forced the fear into the back of his head as he watched the ceremony through empty eyes. Nothing was ever said during the ceremony, which was always conducted in silence as High Priest Alessandro stared at him unnervingly, not breaking his gaze even when he picked up the knife.

He pressed the blade against the thin, marred skin, slicing it as blood leaked out in rivers before dropping and colouring the water pink. After failing to elicit a reaction the priest pressed harder and Hyakinthos winced, immediately drawing out a pleasurable shudder from within the priest himself.

Thumbs dug into Hyakinthos’ arms as the other priests held onto him, left wrist turned to directly face the bowl as blood dropped more readily into the water. The other arm received the same treatment, knife pushing in deep.

Once the ceremony was finished, Hyakinthos stood and tried to maintain his dignity as he stood and faced them, red staining his robes, before he turned away from them. As he began to walk away, he heard the priest make one final comment.

“I look forward to seeing you tonight, thusíā. I’m sure you will look _divine.”_

Hyakinthos slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

A man stared up the palace before him. His ethereal amber hair caught the light of the lanterns lining each side of the path he walked down, elaborate gold and blue robes weighing him down.

He tempered a growing smirk as he drowned out the self-important royal advisor’s nattering with his own thoughts.

“…honestly, Lord Gaius, the palace is an absolute treat if you haven’t had the fortune to visit the capital before. His Majesty has spared no expense on the recent renovations, particularly the guests’ quarters. And with it being an event to celebrate our thusíā, you may notice the jewelled hyacinths on display.”

The thin, rat-like man glanced up at him, noticing that his thoughts were elsewhere, and his mouth twisted.

“You are very lucky to catch a glimpse of the thusíā,” he informed him nasally as they both made their way up the steps towards the ornate door. “Most will not catch a glimpse of him in their lifetime.”

“I know,” Lord Gaius surprised him by answering. “I sincerely look forward to meeting him.”

The advisor nodded firmly before his voice lowered into a mock whisper.

“I have heard his beauty is unparalleled, despite the dark hair. I imagine all of the male lords attending will be bitterly disappointed to hear that he is being forced to choose a female consort. Though, I have to say…”

The younger man tuned the advisor out once again, this time allowing a sharp smile to unfurl on his face.

In three days the thusíā would finally be his.


	2. II

**II.**

“The guests in the grand ballroom are eagerly awaiting your arrival, Thusíā Hyakinthos.”

Hyakinthos ignored the man hovering by the door and focused his concentration on the mirror opposite, striking the inked brush over one eyelid before applying the same action to the other.

Alec had long gone since helping him into his robes, knowing that he liked to be alone when applying the paint to his face and arms. Unlike other royals, he had never been assigned a manservant to help him with tasks such as this because he never left the palace. He was quite thankful for that, however, as he enjoyed simple pleasures such as painting and not being touched.

An intricate gold and green tapestry ran up his arms, covering the scars he despised. It was something he always did after each ceremony, intricately weaving and wrapping snakes around his wrists so that those who looked at them were so distracted they wouldn’t see the marks beneath.

“Thusíā.”

The impatient tone drew up his gaze to look at the man. Ah. One of his father’s subjects.

“I shall be ready in five minutes.”

“Certainly. His Majesty wanted to make sure that you remembered that this is a special evening in your honour.”

Hardly likely he would forget his father’s tiresome declarations about the noble cause. The irony.

“Yes, I do remember. As I said, I shall be ready in five minutes. The longer that you stand there staring at me, the higher likelihood that that five will turn into 10, which will turn into 15. But of course you knew that.”

The man barely stifled a glare, gritting his teeth as he nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

Oh how he'd missed that familiar look of revulsion, Hyakinthos thought sarcastically. Even though he was publicly deemed a sacred gift, privately His Majesty’s staff would always treat him as a low-born slave. He had heard their mutters in the corridors about his mother; a common whore who had watered down the royal line and soured the country’s relationship with the Serpent God.

It had been rather enjoyable, however, to see them flee in horror after informing them that she had actually been a sorceress who had turned into a ghoul upon her death and haunted the servant corridors. 

When Alec had caught him smiling soon after his remarks, he had been asked what he was laughing about.

“Idiots will always run away from their own shadows.”

Alec had tutted at him, rolling his eyes as he continued to fuss about something or another.

In reality, Hyakinthos could not recall much about his mother other than the pine scent of her perfume. He wouldn’t even be able to remember her face had he not a small painted portrait of herthat he had found nestled in a book.

Hyakinthos had been able to learn about his mother over the years from the books she had left behind, notes scratched into the indexes with blotted ink. Some had been taken away after King Leon had deemed inappropriate, but others hidden within some ‘respectable’ books had been missed.

Judging from Epona’s comments, she had been headstrong and fiercely caring; something he had come to learn from the childrearing books she had scrawled across. She had been obsessive about small signals point towards an ailing child, several words circled and underlined. One previously blank page was full of scribbles outlining various symptoms he must have suffered from one day - a fever, drowsiness - and ointments she had procured to help him.

He had also discovered a map inserted into the hollow of a large book about the Serpent God, the forest of Dycei circled several times with potential routes mapped out.

Pushing himself up off the stool, he wandered over to the ornate gold mirror leaning against his wardrobe. It really was utterly hideous but, other than the books, it was the last thing he had of his mother’s so he loved it equally as much as he found it disgusting.

Hyakinthos gave his reflection an unimpressed gaze back. He looked ridiculous in the swathes of robes wound around his slim body, gold serpent jewellery clinging to his upper arms, ankles and around his throat.

Sighing to himself, he figured he had made His Majesty’s men wait long enough before serious consequences were imposed. Placing a shaky hand to the handle of his bedroom, he opened it and was greeted by five men. Well, he supposed ‘greeted’ was a slight exaggeration.

The man from earlier had been joined by three soldiers from the royal guard and Diokles, His Majesty’s personal secretary.

“His Majesty will not be pleased by your tardiness.”

If Diokles’ thunderous expression was anything to go by, it was likely the king was furious. King Leon did not like it when his pawns did not move to the correct square precisely when he demanded it.

Part of Hyakinthos was delighted to have riled him but another part of him was terrified.

“I shall make amends when I see him,” Hyakinthos replied, brushing past Diokles.

He made his way down the long corridor, closely flanked by the guards as Diokles made his way to Hyakinthos’ side.

“Hesiod,” Diokles called the man who had been in Hyakinthos’ room earlier forward. Now that he was closer, Hyakinthos was disconcerted to notice the pungent sweat clinging to Hesiod’s skin. He stifled a grimace as the man swiped away the moisture with his hand as he tried to keep up with Diokles.

“Go ahead and reassure His Majesty that the thusíā will be arriving soon.”

The man hurried off through one of the servant side doors as the rest trudged forward to the large bolted iron-cast door. Diokles stepped in front of Hyakinthos to pull out a string of keys, placing several into the various padlocks in the door.

Hyakinthos’ fingers tingled as he stepped past the threshold of his prison towards the main royal palace. He wished the sun hadn’t set and he could feel it on his skin instead of being soaked in darkness. Cicadas croaked around him and he felt all the more close to freedom. His hands clenched and unclenched.

He wasn’t free. Yet.

The chill bit at his bare ankles and arms as they made their way across the courtyard dotted with vivid blue hyacinths, towards marble steps and imposing limestone arch.

Hyakinthos’ heart drummed fiercely against his chest, but kept his expression blank as the oak doors were opened before them. Myrhh wafted amongst the towering pillars, which reached 50ft above to the colourful fresco looming over their heads. Guards lined the walls, faces masked by bronze helmets as they stood staring directly ahead.

The sweet sorrowful sound from lyres carried through the air, calling to him amid the loud chatter echoing in the grand ballroom. They almost appeared to be mourning the impending doom of the unlucky woman he would be forced to choose.

He was stopped from reaching the door by the Diokles, who stood in front of him with a dark rosewood box that instantly unnerved him.

“I’m not wearing it.”

“His Majesty expects the thusíā to wear it.”

“He may _expect_ it, but I refuse to.”

Diokles glared at him. “Are you disobeying the king?”

“What are you making a fuss about now, Hyakinthos?”

Hyakinthos turned towards the voice of his younger brother Chares, who rolled his eyes as he approached him with a smirk playing on his lips. “Honestly, one would think you’re being forced to place the executioner’s rope around your neck.”

Chares looked as polished as ever, golden hair brushed neatly off his face and broad shoulders covered by an emerald robe. He had inherited many of their father’s features, including not only his physical attributes, such as his sharp, strong chin and dark blue eyes, but his vindictiveness.

Though Hyakinthos rarely had the opportunity to speak to his brother, as this was the first time he had stepped foot in the main palace since he was a young child, Chares never neglected the chance to revel in his poor situation.

Was it the fear that Hyakinthos would, at some point, ‘steal’ Chares’ position as first in line to the throne? Even though that was a plausible reason, something in Hyakinthos’ gut told him that that wasn’t the case.

“Is it not the same thing?”

“It is only if you make it that.”

“Are you suggesting that I have any say in the matter?”

Chares smiled. “No, you are quite right. You don’t. Dear brother, why must you make our reunion so fraught with undesirable tension? Are you not pleased to see me? I do love it when the family is able to reunite in circumstances such as these, during such a happy occasion. Are you excited to finally choose a bride with whom you can spend eternal bliss with?”

Hyakinthos stayed silent, trying to gage what his brother wanted from him. As the silence carried on for an uncomfortable amount of time, Hyakinthos finally broke it.

“It will be an honour,” he replied, keeping his voice level. “You know as well as I do the importance of carrying on the thusíā line. It is for the good of our kingdom.”

His brother’s expression was difficult to read before it flickered into a default smile.

“Such a politically correct response, one I applaud you for. Father _would_ be pleased. Well, I look forward to meeting your intended some time over the next few days. But first things first.”

He turned to Diokles, who bowed his head in submission, and sneered as he took the box from him.

“Leave.”

“B-but Your Highness-”

“Are you _really_ questioning my authority?” Chares leaned closer to Diokles, who cowered away, and whispered something in his ear.

The man hurried off without a second word and Chares let out a laugh. “Good help is so difficult to come by these days.”

He opened up the box and inside lay a glittering gold headpiece carved into hyacinths. Hyakinthos’ father had given it to his mother before he lured her to Dycei from her home in Ellery.

His mother should never have become the thusíā. When his father’s brother became sick, the king knew that time was running out for him. The thusíā is a title that should be passed down by blood, and Hyakinthos’ uncle had no children. Therefore it would have been passed to his father.

Of course, King Leon did not want to lose his own title and soul to be locked up in a temple as a gift to the gods. Instead, he found a naive pretty woman from another land and made her believe that he was in love with her. He gave her the crown of gold hyacinths as a gift and she thought nothing of it. Soon after the pair married he gave her the ‘honour’ of becoming the next thusíā. She had no idea what this meant until she was chained to the title, locked away and lost everything, including her husband.

He married the current queen, Corinna, three years afterwards. He had make sure he visited his prisoner so that she bore him a son who would take her place in the event that she would die - which she did.

Chares pulled the crown out from the silk interior and put it in Hyakinthos’ hands.

Hyakinthos placed it on his head, refusing to look at Chares as he made his way to the door but before he was able to take a step, his younger brother had wrapped a hand around his upper arm.

He waited, but nothing left Chares’ lips. Instead of saying what he had intended to, he refrained and let go. Just before walking off, he smirked.

“Enjoy your… _celebration_.”

The doors opened in front of Hyakinthos and the chatter silenced immediately. Hundreds of eyes pinned him to the spot he was standing on, but none more than the ones to his right.

His father was displeased.

Standing to the side with Queen Corinna and their youngest son Bion, King Leon was draped in forest green robes weaved with an elaborate pattern as he held his gnarled gold staff. Shivers ran up Hyakinthos’ skin upon seeing the object as he walked towards his father.

The lines cut viciously into King Leon’s skin revealed his true age as he kept his sharp eyes trained on his eldest son, like a predator watching its prey.

His father had never been one for obvious cruelty; it was all about suggestions, hints and metaphors.

Executions, for example, were never carried out in the city and were always behind closed doors, unlike those in Rhynia which were very much a public spectacle. Instead, King Leon enjoyed making a spectacle out of the _results_ of an execution. Alec once told Hyakinthos of a traitor whose dead body was hung outside the royal gates for two weeks after being tortured and killed, belly sliced open and rotting entrails falling to the floor.

“You have kept our guests waiting, thusíā.” 

Hyakinthos fell to one knee and craned his neck so that he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“I apologise, Your Majesty.”

The king waved an impatient hand up and Hyakinthos stood as his father approached him. He tried not to flinch as the large hand squeezed the back of his neck in warning as the king’s voice travelled across the room to the eagerly awaiting nobles.

“I would like to extend a warm welcome to all of our guests joining us over the next three days. We are reunited as our thusíā chooses his intended, which is certainly reason to celebrate. Thusíā Hyakinthos is thrilled at the prospect of picking his bride, who he will stand beside as they carry on the honour of serving our country and the Serpent God. All will be permitted at least one dance with him and, at the end of the celebrations, he shall choose the woman who will be bestowed the honour of bearing the next thusíā.”

The lords and ladies raised their glasses as the excited chatter in the room resumed, but the king’s hand remained on the back of his neck.

King Leon eventually removed it and quietly uttered in Hyakinthos’ ear before leaving his side.

“You have disappointed me today.”

* * *

Lord Gaius had watched the interaction between the king and his eldest son with thinly-veiled interest. They did not appear to be close, which surprised him. Perhaps this was common within the royal family, but it did cast doubt into his mind about their plan, as carefully constructed as it was.

Still, the thussíā was clearly a valuable asset to the kingdom of Dycei and, therefore, would be as such to the king.

The prince had since moved over to a server holding out a platter of glasses filled to the brim with melit, a honey-based alcoholic beverage which was an abomination in Lord Gaius’ mind. Give him a bottle of mávro krasí any day. 

He was breathtakingly beautiful, as the murmurs had suggested; piercing green eyes lined with charcoal and dark waves cascading down his neck and shoulders. He was clearly visible amid the sea of gold, which would prove problematic and was something they hadn’t entirely considered.

“My lord?”

Lord Gaius glanced up at the server offering him a glass.

He smiled politely. “No, thank you.”

“Would you like something else to drink, my lord? We have a large selection of wines in the cellar.”

As tempted as he was by the offer, he knew he had to resist. He had to have a clear head.

“I am fine, thank you.”

“Please my lord,” the servant said almost frantically. “You must be parched from your journey. The king insists that all of his guests are sufficiently catered for this evening.”

Honestly, what was with this interrogation on his drinking habits?

“I am not thirsty.”

“But my lord-”

“A lord who isn’t a fan of melit?” The dry voice came from behind him. “Well, I never thought I’d see the day.”

Prince Hyakinthos stood next to them with a small smile on his face. Placing an empty glass on the platter, he took another full of the sticky liquid and tipped it down his throat, wincing at the burn.

“You don’t appear to enjoy the taste much either,” Lord Gaius responded with quirked eyebrows as the servant finally rushed off with a red face.

“It does the job,” Hyakinthos replied and Lord Gaius was disappointed to see that enchanting smile disappear.

“It might do the job a little too well when it comes to you,” said Lord Gaius pointedly at Hyakinthos’ slightly unfocused gaze.

Hyakinthos laughed, prompting a few lords and ladies to turn towards them in interest.

“You may indeed be right,” he replied. “I must apologise for my uncouth behaviour; I am not used to the company of lords and ladies so I am rather out of my depth.”

He held out his hand, the innocent move stunning Lord Gaius. Royalty never did such a thing in Dycei and it was already garnering attention, much to his dread.

The prince appeared oblivious. “Forgive my rude manners, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Hyakinthos.”

Lord Gaius turned the hand around and instead kissed his knuckles. “I am Gaius, Your Highness.”

Hyakinthos looked confused and quickly pulled his hand away. Had he done something wrong? He had heard this was a common greeting to royalty in Dycei.

Instead of leaving, understanding seemed to dawn on the prince. “Where is your place of residence?”

Had he already been discovered? He could visualise Eira’s annoying tutting face right now, telling him that his plan was and always had been a ridiculous one.

“I live east, far from the capital, so I am unable to visit as frequently as I would like.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Hyakinthos replied with an unprincely shrug, leaving his glass on the side. “You need not extend royal protocol towards me; I am a servant of the kingdom, though I guess celebrations such as these may seem as though I have delusions of grandeur.”

Before Gaius had the chance to say anything in response, Hyakinthos’ name was obnoxiously called out across the hall.

“I am being summoned,” the young prince sighed. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lord Gaius. I hope we will have the chance to talk again tomorrow.”

As Hyakinthos walked towards the group of gathered ladies with an acquired stiffness, Gaius recognised that the prince was already trapped, and he hadn’t even cast his own net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say thank you so much to those leaving kudos - it gave me a MASSIVE boost. This chapter was a little difficult to get started as I decided to totally rewrite and extend it. I wasn't happy with the original introduction of a few major characters as I didn't think it quite worked, but I am much happier with this second version. 
> 
> I imagine the third chapter will be much easier to write as I have a clearer idea now of where I want to take it and the story as a whole, as well as the characters' personalities. Which, I guess, is a little ridiculous considering I have plotted seven parts to this series and know how this one will end!
> 
> This book is set in Dycei, but you will also hear the names of several other kingdoms - Rhynia, Aliske, Ellery and Azolla. Actually, I would hasten to call Azolla a kingdom as it's more a small island run by dragons (standard! haha). 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments below - constructive criticism is always welcome! 
> 
> Annnd this is my Tumblr I created recently - https://efrayne.tumblr.com/ - still not ENTIRELY sure how to use it, but I try 😅.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left comments on the last chapter, really appreciate it. And sorry that this latest chapter has taken a while but I'm planning to update this every Sunday now. Please let me know what you think or if you have any constructive criticism - always appreciate it! 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Implied abuse, suicidal thoughts.

He was late. Again.

Murmurs gathered around the room, probing questions about the thusíā’s disappearance.

Lords and ladies tittered amongst themselves, dressed in their best attire and adorned with the finest emeralds in Dycei, desperately hoping to catch the eye of the royals tucked away in the far corner.

Lady Elektra frowned, twirling a finger distractedly around a flyaway strand of golden hair which had escaped the carefully spun bun on her head. She watched her mother with unease as Queen Corinna pressed her lips to her husband’s ear.

“Are you certain this will work?”

“Of course not,” her companion said drily. “There are too many variables for me to be certain of anything.”

“He is late.”

“He was late yesterday.”

“It is different this time,” she replied sharply, eyes carefully monitoring those around her as she ensured that no one was listening in on their quiet conversation. “I can feel it. Surely he is not gone yet? It is too soon and he will be caught. We should have known better to trust-”

“You know as well as I do it was our only option,” he replied calmly, placing his fingers to the small of her back.

Her gaze snapped up to meet his as she batted his hand away. “Don’t. I am betrothed to Lord Eusebios.”

Dareios’ expression changed in a blink, the placid expression morphing as fire lit in his eyes and jaw clenched.

“He shall _never_ have you.”

Lady Electra didn’t find the passionate vow alarming. Instead, she allowed herself a rare inspection of Dareios’ features, fondly recalling the incident long ago that resulted in his crooked, broken nose. He certainly didn’t possess the aristocratic features of the Dycei elite, but she had always found him captivating and his conviction irresistible.

“Have you seen my brother?”

Dareios noticed her change in topic but refrained from saying anything, expression smoothing as he took a drink from the goblet cradled in his hand.

“Yes,” he replied with exaggerated slowness. “The crowned prince has been prowling the room and leaving broken hearts in his wake.”

“Don’t you think he seems… different recently?”

“In what way?”

She pressed her hands against her skirt. “I don’t know. Chares seems preoccupied… distracted, perhaps, is the better word. It concerns me.”

“You believe he knows?”

“No,” Lady Electra replied. “He-”

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden silencing of the lyres as heads turned towards the opened double doors. Servants walked in carrying large clay jugs and placed them on the ceremonial table.

Lady Elektra felt sick as Dareios murmured beside her. “Surely not…”

* * *

Nobles made him feel sick.

Lord Gaius stared at one man gorging himself on cheese and venison in between gulps of melit, struggling not to sneer.

His back ached and he reached one hand behind to his shoulder blades, missing the familiar weight that had not been there over the last few days.

It was incredibly frustrating that he had to follow orders after being guided by his own instinct for so long. Being among these clueless royals with swelled bellies, ignoring their starving people pleading outside the walls as they stuffed their faces with food made his stomach turn.

The urge to ignore his issued instructions was building, but he dug his nails into the palm of his hand instead.

Suddenly, the rumbling conversation silenced and Lord Gaius turned towards the commotion beside the large rectangular table decorated with gold silk, large jugs now laid out on it with rubygoblets decorated with an intricate mosaic of an emerald serpent.

All of the guests in the room were motioned forward to collect a goblet to raise a toast to the kingdom.

“It ensures the continuing good fortune of Dycei,” Lord Gaius heard one manin front of him explain to his companion as they moved towards the table. “We are truly fortunate to have this opportunity.”

What rubbish. Lord Gaius certainly didn’t feel fortunate as he stared down at his cup of pink-tinged liquid. Was it alcohol? It didn’t smell of anything at all. It wouldn’t surprise him if King Leon’s plan had been simply to poison all of his royals in this ridiculous ceremony.

Lord Gaius took a sip and that metallic taste was unmistakable.

It was water laced with blood.

* * *

“Please, Your Highness. I am not sure whether you are well enough to attend the ceremony this evening.”

“You know as well as I do I… need to attend.”

Hyakinthos was assaulted by a wave of dizziness as he stood, hand clutching his forehead. The alcohol had helped stem the pain but now made it difficult for him to think, to plan, to walk…

“You also should not be calling me by that title.”

Alec rushed over to help steady him. “You should also know that is the least of our worries right now.”

“Not if it leads… to you being strung up by your neck.”

Hyakinthos scrunched his eyes closed as Alec made a small noise of concern, carefully lifting his right arm.“It’s still bleeding. I should redress the wound.”

He pulled away. “We don’t have time and I’m already late. The king will…”

“He expected this to happen,” Alec snapped, looking more angry than Hyakinthos had ever seen him. “He ordered it, in fact. He will expect you to be late or not turn up tonight.” 

“Which is precisely why I must,” Hyakinthos responded, letting out a heavy breath. He gestured to the deep garnet coloured cloth on his bed, which Alec handed over to him.

Carefully draping it over his shoulders and arms, Hyakinthos fixed it in place with the gold hyacinth pin.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking towards his bedroom door and opened it.

“So you’re finally ready.”

Diokles was standing in the corridor, arms crossed as he stared at Hyakinthos with raised eyebrows and was flanked by guards.

“Yes,” Hyakinthos replied tightly, trying his best to maintain a polished facade. He clearly failed in that regard as he stumbled slightly and Diokles tutted in exasperation.

“Been at the wine, I see. His Majesty will be most pleased to hear that his son has decided to raid the alcohol cabinet rather than attend his own celebrations.”

Hyakinthos bit back a sharp retort, knowing that his mind was too hazy for it to be on point, and felt a presence at his side. Diokles’ gaze snapped to Alec, who stared back at him with a placid expression.

“You are not needed.”

“I will attend the thusíā this evening,” Alec replied calmly. “He is not feeling well so I need to monitor his health throughout the night. As you are aware, he has had a strenuous afternoon.”

Diokles narrowed his eyes before turning his back on them. “Fine. On your head be it.”

They made their way through the corridors, following the same route as the previous day. Every so often, Alec corrected the cape draped over Hyakinthos, shifting the material so that it covered his arms.

He really did not want to do this, Hyakinthos realised.

His chest felt heavy as the walls closed in on him. Every step that led him closer to His Majesty… his father… took away the breath in his lungs. The fiery pain shooting up his arms was only dampened slightly by the heavy fog the alcohol brought with it.

He wanted to run. He wanted so desperately to run and never look back. He wanted to be alone, away from those greedy eyes glinting as blades pressed into his skin. He wanted to leave his family behind and fall in love and he wanted to _be_ loved.

He also wanted to die.

Hyakinthos stifled a sob that was itching to leave his mouth.

Alec gently pressed a hand to his elbow and said something so quietly that no one apart from himself could hear.

“It will be ok. I’m here.”

* * *

His father had been surprised at his appearance, but other than that gave no reaction as Hyakinthos made his way to a servant to request a bottle of mávro krasí.

He stood in a corner of the room with Alec at his side, whose main purpose became turning down invitations for dances and the like. He would likely be punished for doing so, but more so if his drunkenness was exposed by stumbling about and falling over in the middle of the dance floor.

“Thusíā.”

The familiar hiss of his title prompted him to clutch his glass tightly in his hand. He glanced up to see High Priest Alessandro looming over him with a disquieting smile playing on his face.

Hyakinthos didn’t reply but nodded, taking a sip of his glass. 

The priest tutted and grabbed his arm, pulling away the material to expose a peak of the bandages wrapped around his arm.

“Such a shame you have covered my marks; they are so exquisite when bathed in the light.”

Hyakinthos snatched back his arm as Alec uncharacteristically moved forward, placing himself in between him and the priest.

“Now is not the appropriate time to be making such remarks, High Priest Alessandro.”

Delight, rather than anger, flooded the high priest’s features as he turned his attention to Hyakinthos’ servant, sending chills down his spine.

His hand reached towards Alec’s chin, gripping it between two boney fingers. “You would look so beautiful with my marks on your body, _Alec_. I shall put your name forward to His Majesty for obedience training as it is quite clear that your training was not quite sufficient last-”

“Your business is with me,” Hyakinthos interrupted him, placing his hand around the high priest’s wrist and away from Alec. “Do not bring my servant into it.”

“There is no need for jealousy, thusíā.” The high priest’s gaze had turned back to him as he trailed a finger down his shoulder. “You have my undivided attention, as always, and I am very much-”

“There you are!”

An arm sliced in between Hyakinthos and High Priest Alessandro, cutting through the tension so suddenly it was disorientating. The man towered over them all as he faced Hyakinthos and rudely had his back to the spindly tall high priest.

Hyakinthos was sure he recognised the man and his unnaturally golden hair, but he couldn’t pinpoint who he was. His expression was serious, ensuring that his sharp features appeared all the more severe, as he stared at Hyakinthos but as he shifted his head back to the high priest he grinned easily.

“I’m sorry for so rudely interrupting, but I was promised some time with the thusíā by His Majesty. Thank you for being so understanding.”

High Priest Alessandro did not look understanding one bit, displeasure coating his expression, but he nodded once. “Fine. Thusíā Hyakinthos, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Once the high priest had disappeared into the crowd, the man’s smile dropped as he addressed Hyakinthos.

“I apologise if my arrival is unwelcome but I was under the impression that his presence was _extremely_ unwelcome so thought I would intervene.”

“No, your presence is not unwelcome. Thank you,” Hykakinthos replied as he downed the rest of his drink. “Have we met?”

“We met yesterday,” the man replied with a shrug. “I am sure you must have been introduced to so many faces yesterday. I’m Lord Gaius, the -“

“Oh yes, the lord who despises melit.” Hyakinthos brightened at the memory. “Were you able to find a drink more to your taste? Your empty hands suggest not.”

Lord Gaius shook his head. “No, sadly I have not.”

Hyakinthos held up the bottle of wine he had sat on the corner table. “I have some mávro krasí, if you would like some? I have perhaps had a little too much this evening.”

Lord Gaius’ face brightened. “I must confess, I would find it almost impossible to turn away a glass of mávro krasí.”

Hyakinthos called his servant forward. “Please could you fetch Lord Gaius an empty goblet?”

Alec appeared reluctant to leave his side, but nodded and left them alone.

“I am sorry but I am afraid I won’t be good company this evening,” Hyakinthos said frankly, glancing towards the inky black night beyond the balcony.

“Is that the reason you have been avoiding all of your guests this evening?”

Hyakinthos raised his eyebrows. “You could say that. So you’ve been watching me?”

“You are pretty easy to spot,” Lord Gaius shrugged. “It would be harder to _not_ watch you.”

“Ah, because of my hair. Yes, that does make me fairly identifiable, doesn’t it?” Hyakinthos poured himself more wine. “How do you like the capital? It must be a big change from your home in the east. I have heard the land is so vividly green in comparison and home to so many beautiful birds. Is it true that there is a colony of phoenixes living nearby?”

“Yes there are, though they are rarely seen as they generally keep to themselves,” Lord Gaius replied. “It is… different in the capital. I am more accustomed to solitude and fireflies rather than being surrounded by humans for such long periods of time.”

“I would love to visit at some point. It sounds beautiful. I have also read about the northern mountainous region and the pure black griffins that live in the caves. Have you ever seen them?”

Lord Gaius made a face at the memory. “Yes, they are vicious. Nearly bit my hand off.”

Hyakinthos laughed. “I would still like to see one.”

“Why are you not able to?”

“I cannot leave the palace,” Hyakinthos explained, sipping at his wine. “The thusíā must be stationed within the palace walls at all times. When I was a child I was able to venture out into the capital and I remember being mesmerised by these unusual smells in the market; oregano, thyme, grilled sardines… Al - one of my servants managed to get me this sugary cinnamon pastry covered in honey-”

“Diples?”

“Yeah. I was a mess after I demolished it but it was worth it.”

“They’re a bit too sweet for me.”

“A man who doesn’t like melit nor diples… what kind of Deiceian are you?”

“A terrible kind, clearly.”

“I’ll say.” Hyakinthos mirrored Lord Gaius’ teasing smile, the alcohol loosening his tongue more than it ought to have been. But Lord Gaius’ smile froze, appearing momentarily startled.

Self-consciousness crept up onto Hyakinthos as he wondered what he had done wrong. He didn’t often interact with anyone other than the servants and the priests… had he said something untoward? Was his manner lacking?

He had never had any friends, per se, but he _had_ read about them in books; lonely boys discovering secret gardens and beautiful worlds filled with unusual and brave beings who cared about them as the boys helped protect their worlds from nasty demons, fire-breathing dragons or terrifyingly ugly trolls.

If only Hyakinthos could be as brave. If only he weren’t trapped, would people actually like him? He had always dreamt of escaping and hopefully his plan would work. Speaking of which…

He glanced over his shoulder with a frown. “Where is he? He should have been back by now.”

“Who?”

“Alec,” Hyakinthos replied distractedly as his gaze scanned the crowds, which were rippling and parting as heavy footsteps stomped on the ground. A noblewoman clutched the emeralds around her neck as she was roughly shoved aside by the guard at the front.

Over the top of the bubbling chaos, Hyakinthos heard his father’s furious voice echo around the ballroom.

“Seize him!”

Terror and devastation washed over Hykinthos as the guards stormed towards him.

“ _Shit_ ,” Lord Gaius muttered. He roughly grabbed Hykakinthos’ arm and dragged him towards the balcony, away from the guards.

Hyakinthos could hear panicked shouts as Lord Gaius wrapped an arm around his waist. He tried to pull away, confused by his behaviour.

“What are you doing?”

The man ignored him, tightening his arm around him and whispered something in a language Hykinthos didn’t understand.

The stone parapet dug into his legs as Lord Gaius changed their positions, his broad chest pressing up against his back as his arms were vice-like around his torso.

“Don’t struggle.”

The command was lost on Hyakinthos as Lord Gaius pulled them both over the edge of the balcony and they were falling, falling, falling…

But they never hit the ground.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews for the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one, in which I finally breathe a sigh of relief as I can call 'Lord Gaius' by his actual name... 
> 
> I meant to update last Sunday but, alas, work got in the way :'( Fingers crossed I will be able to get the next chapter out next Sunday - if not, it will be the Sunday after :) 
> 
> Please let me know what you think or if you have any constructive criticism. Thanks again!

**IV.**

He was flying. He was _flying._

Hyakinthos’ feet dangled hundreds of feet above the arid landscape as the shouts from the palace quietened into mere murmurs. His cape had somehow managed to cling on around his neck, as had the clumsy arms gripped around his waist as they soared higher and higher into the midnight sky.

The enormity of the situation hit him like rock, the fear pooled in his gut flowing to the rest of his body.

What was _happening?_

Daring a glance above, all he could see were two enormous spiked wings blocking his view of the stars.

“Unless you want to fall to your death, _stop_ wriggling.”

Terror gripped him like never before. The snarl sounded so unlike the man who... well, who he had been speaking to for the past two days. Had Lord Gaius become possessed by a demon?

What was this creature?

“Didn’t you hear me? I said _stop_.”

He had never read that those possessed by demons would acquire wings. What did this thing want with him? What had happened to Lord Gaius?

Perhaps he would be tortured and eaten. He had seen pictures of creatures from the underworld tearing off flesh and consuming it while the human was still alive as means of a punishment. Was he about to be punished for something? Had he done something irredeemable that he would now be punished for? Why couldn’t he remember what it was?

“What are you - stop!”

Suddenly, he was falling, faster and faster. So fast that he was sure he would hit the ground.

* * *

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The jarring movement made Hyakinthos groan as he went to rub his forehead, only for it to slam into something. It was at that moment that he realised he was upside down and slung over someone’s broad shoulder.

“Stop moving!”

The angry voice sounded pained, but his grip felt as solid as it had been before… well, he had dropped him.

“What are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The - man? Thing? Creature? - had lost the stiff, pompous tone in his voice and appeared to have acquired a lazy drawl. He certainly no longer sounded like any lord Hyakinthos had encountered before. “You’re being kidnapped, sweetheart. You’ve got a huge bounty on that pretty head of yours.”

“What did you just call me?”

Hyakinthos jolted as the person carrying him jumped over something.

“So you don’t get called sweetheart often then, Your Highness?”

“You would be correct in that assumption.” Hyakinthos was terrified, but the man’s attitude prompted a bite in his words. “And it is not Highness, it’s-”

“Thusíā,” he interrupted him. “Yep, I know. The saviour of our land, the saviour of our very souls. What _would_ we do without you?”

His words dripped with acidic sarcasm, which Hyakinthos did not appreciate.

“Who are you? And what are you doing?”

“I would have thought it was pretty obvious what I’m doing as I clearly told you.”

“But why?”

“You’re seriously asking me why?”

“Yes, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking.”

“It’s payment day, and you’re the delivery we have to make.”

“Who are you delivering me to?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Well it doesn’t to me. Sorry, Your Highness.”

He sounded anything but sorry and Hyakinthos forced himself not to respond and instead inspect his surroundings. The inky black night dotted with stars blanketed the sky, contrasting against the golden sandy desert that stretched so far that he could no longer see the palace.

He wouldn’t survive making a run for the city, which was just a sprinkle of glowing lights on the horizon. If the creature carrying him didn’t kill him within seconds of escaping his clutches, the violent chill already settling into his skin certainly would. He hadn’t taken the cold desert night into account when considering his escape as he had always planned on a departure an hour before sunrise.

Suddenly, Hyakinthos found himself dumped on the ground, but as he gazed up he realised that they were on the outskirts of the Forest of Erebos. Gnarled trees reached out towards them, beckoning them into the darkness.

The creature rolled his shoulders back as he extended his large, spiked wings out and rubbed rubbed a spot on his back, turning to look over at Hyakinthos on the ground with narrowed eyes.

“Your legs work, don’t they?”

Hyakinthos scrambled up onto his feet and glared back at the creature, who already seemed to have lost interest in him and ripped the top half of his damaged tunic off, leaving him bare chested as he retied the frayed material around his waist into a knot. He advanced towards him with the scraps of material and Hyakinthos flinched away from him.

The creature rolled his eyes and grabbed both of his wrists, winding the cloth around them so tightly it bit into his skin.

“Why are you tying me up?”

“Do you always ask such stupid questions? You’re my captive here and you damaged my wings by almost killing yourself.”

Hyakinthos defiantly glared up at his captor, who tugged him forward by the material around his wrists and planted his feet firmly into the ground. The creature glared back at him.

“Tell me who you are,” Hyakinthos demanded, pushing the fear back as he stood tall, determined not to let any emotion show. “I won’t move until you tell me who and what you are and what you are planning to do with me. You mentioned that you are ‘delivering me’… to whom and for what purpose?”

“I don’t have time for this,” the creature muttered, tugging on the material. “Would you rather I drag you?”

“I would rather you tell me who you are,” Hyakinthos stared back at him unflinchingly. “I’m presuming that your real name is not Lord Gaius.”

“A lord who slobbers over the thusíā? No, I can safely say that I am not, thank the stars.”

Embarrassment and shame flooded Hyakinthos. He had enjoyed speaking with Lord Gaius and thought, for once, he had had a connection with someone. Instead, he had been manipulated and played once again.

“For someone who despises royalty, you certainly have the characteristics down to a T. I am surprised you didn’t play yourself as you would have fit right in,” Hyakinthos snarled. “Self-absorbed, rude-”

Hyakinthos was tugged violently forward, his face brought within inches of the creature's. “Are you forgetting what position you are currently in? You are _my_ captive. Now walk before I make you _wish_ you’d got on your hands and knees and crawled for me.”

He allowed himself to be pulled into the depths of the forest. Trudging through the dense woodland, all the animals appeared to have awoken from their slumber, from the chirping crickets to the screams of mating wolves. Fireflies flickered amongst the ferns as something else rustled through a nearby bush.

Hyakinthos almost stopped in his tracks in awe.

Everything was so _alive_.

“What, you’ve never seen a fairy before?” His captor’s mocking face was illuminated by a tiny glow. Just in front of him was what appeared like a tiny person, silk wings rapidly fluttering.

“No,” Hyakinthos replied as the fairy flew closer to him, head tilting to the side as it studied him inquisitively.

If he squinted, he could just about make out their tiny features and reckoned that they were trying to gage him as much as he was with them.

Of course Hyakinthos had read about fairies but never had he been lucky enough to meet one. While they were considered common in the humid forests of Dycei, which were in stark contrast to the rest of the arid landscape, they were rarely seen in the cities and towns.

Hyakinthos had heard that they had amazing healing abilities but never shared them with humans. The books claimed that this was because they were too proud as creatures, but he doubted this was entirely true.

In an old book he had found in his mother’s secret library, the author spoke of fairies captured in their hundreds and caged so that they could heal the humans in a village. Eventually, the fairies stopped healing.

The fairy hovered closer towards him and almost touched his nose. Hyakinthos found himself holding his breath so that he didn’t accidentally blow it away.

Reaching out, the fairy brushed a tiny hand against his cheek before quickly pulling it away and staring back up at him. For the first time in years, Hyakinthos found himself genuinely smiling.

After another few seconds, the fairy fluttered its wings and flew away.

Dragging his gaze away from the spot where the fairy had disappeared from, he turned to his captor who was staring at him, but his lips quickly twisted into a scowl.

“Hurry up.”

After what seemed like hours of stumbling over tree trunks, Hyakinthos heard a mumble of chatter as a fire flickered in a clearing.

“-that is _not_ what I was saying. Why’d ya always have to twist everything I say?”

“I was _not_ twisting anything. I’m just pointing out your clear stupidity.”

“It’s not a big deal! I just - oh hey Drak! You’re back! And look what he’s brought with him!”

The man had jumped up and paced towards them with a huge, unnerving grin lighting up his face. Hyakinthos was so distracted by the cherry red hair that he almost missed the spiked wings.

The strange man pushed his captor out of the way and grabbed Hyakinthos’ chin, inspecting him. “Is this the prince? He’s so pretty I could eat him up!”

Hyakinthos flinched, trying to pull away from his firm grasp. Had he really been brought here to be killed by these other… creatures?

His captor yanked the redhead away from him and stepped in front of Hyakinthos, his intimidating wings acting as a divider.

“Don’t tell me you want him all to yourself, Drakon,” the redhead drawled with a smirk. “It’s not like you to be so territorial over a human. Are you turning over a new leaf and finally starting your hoard now that you’ve got blond hair? Loving the new look by the way.”

“Shut it, Nikias,” his captor, whose name Hyakinthos assumed was Drakon and not Gaius, snapped.

A pale woman with snowy white hair slunk beside the redhead - Nikias? - and stared at Drakon accusingly.

“What are you doing back so early? Don’t tell me your ‘fool-proof plan’ was’t fool proof after all?”

Unlike the other two, her wings were web-like and looked like they were spun with the finest cotton as they fluttered in the wind.

“There were… complications,” Drakon responded reluctantly and Hyakinthos imagined he was gritting his teeth.

“What kind of ‘complications’?”

“The kind that meant that meant I had to alter the proposed plan.” Drakon looked over his shoulder suspiciously at Hyakinthos before snapping his gaze back to the other two. “And we shouldn’t be talking about this in front of _him_.”

The woman ignored him, standing with her hands on her waist. “What happened?”

“Did you not listen to what I just said?”

“And did _you_ not understand the clear instructions we received?”

“I was forced to improvise, Eira. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

Drakon grabbed Hyakinthos and pulled him past Eira and Nikias before pushing him down onto the floor by the fire. It was only when he was by the warmth that Hyakinthos realised his hands were ice cold.

The bickering continued while Hyakinthos’ vision began to waver as he watched the flickering flames licking the logs and kindling. His arm ached underneath the bandages which Alec had helped wrap earlier… oh, _Alec_.

Was he ok? What had happened to Alec?

He needed to go back.

Hyakinthos stood and a wave of dizziness hit him as faces loomed over him.

And then… silence.

* * *

Broken glass crunched underfoot as Dareios stepped into the room that was now unnaturally still.

A table had been thrown onto its side, the silk cover that draped over it now in a pool on the floor next to a splintered clay jug. A smashed painting hung on an odd axis while the statue standing in the centre of the room was now missing an arm.

“Captain.”

The large, dark figure in the chair barely moved as Dareios walked towards him and inclined his head in submission.

“I want him found,” the king said emotionlessly. “Kill all of the bandits who took him and any traitors to the crown. I will not tolerate such humiliation.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

As Dareios turned to leave, King Leon’s voice stopped him.

“Before you leave, ensure that the guards do not kill the traitor in the cells. The thusíā needs to be taught a lesson when he returns to the palace.”

Dareios nodded, not trusting his voice as he left the room and not turning his back on the king until the door closed in front of him.


End file.
